Being Nosy
by Sheankelor
Summary: Death gets more than he bargained for when he visits Snowball one Christmas. (Set in the Snowball universe when Severus and Harry are still alive) Posted for Yen, because she is awesome.
1. One Room too Many

_My wonderful beta has become a co-author in this series, as many of you should know by now. She is the one who made Death the character that he is in the stories – or at least is the inspiration since she asked all the right questions – and she does such a wonderful job writing Death centric stories. So, here is another one from her. I agreed to post it so that you can find it, though I think she should still be posting them to her account as well. _

_Without further ado, I present you __**'Being Nosy'.**__ Enjoy!_

_Ree_

_One Room too Many_

_by YenGirl_

He wasn't mistaken after all.

Death shuddered. He was going to have nightmares for weeks! Months! It was a good thing he didn't have a heart; it would have stopped beating right at that moment.

Spying his humble abode up ahead, he sped up and rushed inside, staggering to his leather armchair and collapsing onto it. He pressed skeletal palms to his eyes, trying to erase the memory of what he had seen earlier, but it was too late. The moving images were permanently fused to the insides of his skull and there they would remain to haunt him until the end of time.

All right, he was being a tad melodramatic, but it was true all the same.

Today was Christmas.

Death had left his home in the early hours of the morning and was looking forward to his yearly visit to Snowball. After making his scheduled stops along the way, he had gone up to the secluded house in the woods, a slight spring in his step - indiscernible to all but the most observant of eyes - and his Christmas gifts in his robes, two handsome lap rugs in a zigzag pattern of black and light gray wool.

The Grim Reaper had grown used to the fact the two wizards who lived there would be out of their house by midmorning. He would be able to wander through their home and peek into each room as he pleased. He wasn't curious or anything, he would tell himself each year to quell the tiny prick of guilt that poked him; he just wanted to make sure his gifts were being used, that was all.

And they were. Every single one of them.

Death had entered through the kitchen door and looked for his first gift – two small doilies he had given them in their third year of staying together, still placed under the mug tree and teapot. He had then nodded at the matching place mats on the kitchen table, his gift a couple of years after that.

Proceeding to the living room, he saw the larger doilies decorating the backs of their comfortable armchairs and the large rug on the floor between them. Seeing each gift being used and well maintained gave him a nice warm feeling he would never admit to himself.

Death had placed his gifts on the coffee table next to two neatly wrapped boxes - one with bright wrapping paper and a profusion of ribbons, the other neatly wrapped in plain green paper with a single ribbon around it. He was sure both gifts were for him and savoured the anticipation of unwrapping them once he got home, but left them there while he covered the rest of their house.

Peeking into their workrooms, he noted the condition of the knitted covers he had made for their chairs. Both were starting to get worn so he made a note to himself that their replacements would his next year's gifts.

Finally, having saved the best for last, Death stepped into their bedroom. There, on the large King sized bed was his last year's Christmas gift to them – a crocheted wool bedspread in white, light gray, dark gray and black, with a scalloped border.

Seeing it spread so neatly over the bed, aligned with a precision he was sure was the taller wizard's doing, made him glad he had done a proper job. It had taken him two whole days just to learn to crochet the scalloped trim and it was rewarding to see his efforts appreciated.

Death stood at the doorway for a long moment, enjoying the warmth spreading through his chest. He in turn, appreciated their gifts just as much. He wasn't unaware of the effort that had gone into each piece of well carved wood, whether for shelf or for handle, or the silky smooth polish that took so little effort on his part to keep his blades shiny and in tip top condition.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Death turned to leave the bedroom. He had another client to pick up in an hour's time and he wanted to unwrap his gifts in the privacy of his home first.

A small noise made him pause. He turned around to stare at a closed door in the adjacent wall.

Was that the cupboard?

Was there someone inside?

All at once, he felt something swelling inside him, overcoming the warmth he had felt earlier. It was anger. Anger that these two wizards had an intruder in their home.

A thief. On Christmas Day, no less!

Eye sockets glowing with righteous fury, Death strode over to the door, intending to give the criminal a piece of his mind. Perhaps he wouldn't even need to – the mere sight of him could very well prompt a fatal heart attack and he wasn't one to refuse an extra soul.

Especially on Christmas Day.

Standing tall with his signature scythe in one skeletal hand, Death wrapped the other around the doorknob and yanked the door open. Then he froze.

The two naked and very wet wizards standing inside the shower stall froze as well when they heard the door open. Eyes previously closed in bliss flew open and panting mouths went slack in utter shock.

Death swallowed. The taller wizard was facing the wall, both palms flat on the tiles and long legs spread while the shorter one stood behind him, arms wrapped around the other's waist and hips… well, joined to the other's.

"I thought… I didn't realise…. Oh, _hell!_"

With that articulate explanation of his gross intrusion, Death spun around in a flurry of black robes and fled, utterly mortified…

Death groaned as he leaned back in his leather armchair. No, he wasn't mistaken. Severus Pope and Harry Pope had indeed started shagging as the single bedroom in the house testified, despite how adamant they were at first that they weren't going to be sharing a bed.

Sighing, Death looked at his table and realised he hadn't stopped to pick up his gifts, so anxious was he to escape from Snowball.

Well, they weren't his anymore. Their bargain still stood… but the exchange of gifts had ended, thanks firstly to his curiosity and secondly to his misguided attempt at chivalry.

**End of Part 1**


	2. 2: The Fallout

_The Fallout_

_By: YenGirl_

**Part 2**

Death stared at the blazing fire in his hearth, feeling an unaccustomed emptiness inside his chest.

His next client was due to be picked up at noon, after which he would have a few free hours before going out again. He had planned to use that time to do some handiwork, depending on what the two wizards' gifts were. There was still a lot of space on his wall if Harry Pope had carved him a new shelf, and he had recently acquired two new blades if his gift turned out to be a handle. He had also used up the very last bit of scythe polish and was looking forward to a new jar from Severus to shine up some of his more tarnished blades.

Now, he had nothing.

Death sighed and shifted in his leather armchair, knowing he was just prolonging the inevitable. Even if the gift exchange was over, he still owed those two wizards an apology. Firstly, for walking into their house unannounced (or being caught doing so), and secondly, for intruding upon a very private and intimate moment (no matter how good his intentions were).

He had no doubts at all that he had ruined their Christmas morning. He didn't think anyone would be able to continue shagging after being shocked like that. Good thing he hadn't caused their premature deaths and hopefully, hadn't scarred them for life either.

Heaving another sigh, Death stood up and marched to his front door before he could talk himself out of it.

- o -

This time, the trip to Snowball took no time at all.

Death paused at the small gate, skeletal fingers clenching hard on the smooth wood before pushing the gate open. He made his way up the slightly curved path and caught sight of one of the window curtains shifting.

At least one of them were home.

That was a good thing, Death told himself firmly. The last thing he wanted was to loiter outside their front door and wait for Severus and Harry Pope to return from whichever Christmas celebration they had gone to. As he neared the front door, it was pulled open and the two wizards stood there staring at him; one with cold suspicion, the other with puzzled wariness.

Then the shorter wizard nudged the taller one and took a step back.

"Please come in," Harry invited.

Death nodded and stepped inside, closing the door before turning to his hosts. In the awkward silence that followed, both wizards' cheeks turned pink. Death would have blushed too if he could.

"Allow me -" he started, but the taller wizard interrupted him.

"Why in Merlin's name were you spying on us?" Severus snapped. He had his arms tightly folded across his chest and the fingers on his right hand twitched as though itching to go for his wand. "Were you trying to go back on our bargain?"

"Severus, wait!" Harry grabbed Severus' arm. "Let him explain."

Severus just snorted and looked away so Harry nodded at Death.

"You were saying?" he prompted, his green eyes still wary.

Death squared his shoulders.

"Please accept my apologies," he began formally, "for intruding upon your… I mean, for interrupting your... that is to say, for witnessing you two..." he trailed off, mourning his lack of articulacy when Severus snorted again.

"... for walking in on us," Harry said simply.

"Yes. It was never my intention."

Another silence fell. One that was heavy with lingering embarrassment, suspicion and regret.

"And what of walking into our home uninvited?" Severus demanded.

Death drew himself up to his full height, noting that Severus had used 'home' instead of 'house'.

"You have never minded that before," he countered.

When Severus glared at him, Harry looked between the two of them and sighed.

Death turned to him, shoulders sagging a bit beneath his black robes.

"I was about to leave when I heard a sound coming from what I mistakenly thought was your cupboard," he elaborated. "I thought there was an intruder in your home," he decided using the same word wouldn't hurt, "taking the opportunity to rob you while you two were out."

He didn't mention the worrying possibility that the thief might have been waiting for them to come back to surprise them with an attack. Not that the Popes couldn't handle intruders either by themselves or together, but it wasn't something Death wanted to find out.

Harry nodded at his explanation, but Severus just raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You must have very good hearing if you could hear us in the master bathroom from the living room," he stated.

Death dipped his head a little, skeletal fingers clenching tighter around the polished handle of his scythe.

"I was in your bedroom," he admitted.

Eyes widening, Severus opened his mouth but Harry was faster.

"Why?" he asked, sounding more curious than anything else.

Death would have bitten right through his lower lip if he had one.

"I wanted - _wondered_ - if you were using the blanket I gave you last year," he confessed at last. He felt like sinking through the floor when Harry's frown deepened while Severus' eyebrows shot up.

In the third silence that followed, Death again felt he would have turned red if he could.

Then Harry shook his head slowly, lips quirking in a smile. It widened into a grin when Severus gave him an incredulous look and turned into a chuckle when the look became a scowl.

"This isn't funny, Harry," Severus stated stiffly.

"No, it isn't," Death agreed at once in a similar tone of voice.

Harry quickly sobered up. He gave Severus a wry look before turning to Death.

"I wasn't laughing at you," he explained. "But I understand now."

"Do you?" Death was aware that his voice sounded even more stilted, having noticed the almost mocking glint in Severus' eyes.

"Yes," Harry said firmly. "Of course you want to know how well your gifts are received. I would want to see the same, if I could."

Turning back to Severus, Harry locked gazes with him, a question in his bright green eyes. When Severus sighed before giving a resigned nod, Harry beamed at him and squeezed his hand before turning back to Death.

"If you have a few minutes to spare, do have a cup of tea with us."

Blinking at the unexpected invitation - he rather expected to have his gifts thrust at him before being showed the door - Death stared at him in astonishment before glancing at Severus who smirked at him.

"But first, we will have a proper exchange of gifts," Severus announced, his smirk widening when Death's jaw dropped in surprise.

- o -

The next half hour was surprisingly pleasant. Severus and Harry praised the lap rugs they had received and Death was very pleased to unwrap a new shelf and a large jar of polish.

They had tea in front of the fire with Death occupying Harry's armchair and Harry perched on the arm of Severus' chair. The two wizards updated their unusual guest on the goings on in their lives and in turn, Death recounted some of the more memorable clients he had had. He didn't mention the incident with the tinkling bells though.

After his second cup, Death got to his feet. "I should go now. Thank you for the tea."

He had noticed Severus' hand lingering on Harry's hip and the warm glances they were giving each other. It didn't take a genius to know what was occupying their minds right now and Death wasn't about to make them wait any longer.

With his precious gifts tucked against his side, he walked swiftly to the door.

"Death, wait."

Turning around, he saw the two wizards regarding him, Harry with a smile and Severus with a solemn expression.

"The blanket you gave us last year is very comfortable," Severus said. "Thank you."

This time, Death could see the warmth in those black eyes.

"Thank _you_," he said with a nod that included Harry.

"You are welcome," Severus replied.

Harry smiled at Death and linked his arm through Severus'.

"Come visit us next Christmas," he invited. "We'll make sure we're at home between breakfast and lunch."

Death stared at them, the emptiness he had felt earlier replaced with a soft warmth. For the first time since he could remember, he had an invitation, a place to go to next year where his presence would be anticipated and welcomed.

"I will see you two then," he promised.

With a nod that was almost a bow, Death swept from the house. He didn't turn back, but lifted a hand in acknowledgment when Harry called out 'Merry Christmas!'

He thought he understood now why these two wizards had managed to obtain a bargain from him.

THE END


End file.
